Where’s my favorite pen ?

I cried during the drive back home today. My chest was in fact congested. I had another episode. I own several writing pens. However, I couldn’t find my favorite pen this morning. As usual I’m in a rush and late because I decide to write poetry before class. Where’s my favorite pen? I check the bed, dresser, bookshelf, bedroom floor, dining room, kitchen, & living room. I checked everywhere. I couldn’t find my favorite pen. Yes, I also checked the bathroom. I’m late. Be gentle with me. I really struggled to leave… I’m late and I only have to attend my favorite modern class today.
What’s wrong with me?
Honestly I didn’t want to leave. Today I didn’t feel apart of society. Damn, it’s hard to live by expected norms and routines. I’m sinking. I’m struggling.
Where’s my favorite pen?
From the living room I race through the hallway back to my bedroom.
I’m late, and I almost killed my dog Leo with my feet. That’s not how I want my dog to leave this world. Frustrated –
Leooooo!!! Mooooooooooveee….
I can’t find my favorite pen.
I look at the clock. It’s time to leave.
Bye Leo! I love you. Take care of house for We.
Bipolar. I shut the door behind me. I leave.
No favorite pen.
I try to convince myself I’m zen.
I had 5 pens on the dresser.
Damn it. I should’ve settled for any pen at home on the dresser back then.

Long gone.
It appears that was way back when.

Finally. I made it.
I open heavy doors. They started dance class with out me.
I’m annoyed, late, and no pen. Music plays. In the background, I hear her say
“And 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8. Aaaaaaaand 2,2,3,4,5,6,7,8…”
I drop my bag. Kick my sandals off. (Loud thump)
I’m a mess..
“Amaris! Jump right in”
Loving smile.
“Warm yourself up. Do your best!”
I’m glad I choose to dance farthest side of the studio.. off center.. but in the middle to the left.
… Even in my element I don’t always fit in.
Tendu. Batman. Tendu. first position. Grand plié.
Determined to gain more strength.
In my awareness I loose awareness.
Last week, I was depressed. 6 days in a row. I told you
I’m a mess..
Honestly…
no regrets. Like that one cliche quote
“Life’s a beautiful mess”
Except.
In grand plié I think about last weeks depression, this week’s stress, and my favorite pen.
Honestly I didn’t want to leave. Today I didn’t feel apart of society. Damn, it’s hard to live by expected norms and routines. I’m sinking. I’m struggling.

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